


A Silver Lining (or, The Girl who Tore Holes in Reality)

by onyourleft084



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Cosmic, Crossover, Give Erik a break, Magic, Mutants, Parallel Universes, Post-X-Men: Apocalypse (2016), Reality Warping, Scarlet Witch - Freeform, Semi-futurefic, The multiverse, family ties, goddammit Fox studios, goddammit Whedon, grief counseling, inter-reality travel, magneto - Freeform, post-Avengers: AoU, power and control, quicksilver - Freeform, the crossover we all sort of want, the scarlet witch has messed up powers, twin flames, whiiiiiiiiiiplaaaaaaaaaaassshh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-16 02:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5810860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyourleft084/pseuds/onyourleft084
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Pietro?"</p><p>The boy looked at her, genuinely puzzled. "Who the hell is Pietro?"</p><p>---<br/>In the wake of her brother's death, Wanda Maximoff feels desperate to find herself a family, even if it means ripping into a whole other universe to do it. Mayhem occurs, shenanigans ensue, and the multiverse is not the same again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i can't help this awful energy

"They're getting worse."

"The nightmares?"

"I don't know what to do. I barely get any sleep."

Sam Wilson regarded the girl from across the small table, his expression unreadable. But in his mind a hundred thoughts, mostly of the _I don't know if I can handle this_ variety, were boiling around and making him antsy.

She shouldn't see that, though. Wanda Maximoff was in a delicate state since the death of her brother, and as the Avenger most experienced with giving psychological support, he had to be strong and focused for both of them. Even if the Avengers had taken the girl in, given her a home, her experiences were following her around like a dark storm cloud. As grief, depression, PTSD and regret are wont to do.

Now, PTSD Sam could help deal with; countless VA support meetings that had ended in smiles and tears (the hopeful kind) proved that. But this kind of grief? The kind that seemed to gnaw at the kid from inside, stopped her from eating, messed up her sleeping patterns and made her powers erratic? As Sam faced her sitting across from him, her face pale and drawn and head bowed, he had to conclude he'd never seen anything like it.

It was like she'd lost a lung. Or a kidney. Or her heart.

Sam tried again. "Will it help if you told me what the nightmares are about?"

Wanda looked up. "They are all about the same things. Bombs falling. My parents, my brother." She swallowed. "Sometimes they're about Hydra. Needles in me, under my skin. The scientists who experimented on us."

The fluorescent lights above them flickered and buzzed slightly. Sam looked up, then back at Wanda. "Go on."

She didn't take her eyes off the table surface. "It's hard to explain. The dreams end just as they're holding the scepter to me, or as the bomb lands in front of us, or as Pietro gets--" Wanda's voice broke. "And it is always the fear that builds up before the bad thing happens. That makes me unable to breathe so that I have to wake up. It hurts." She pulled her green jacket over her chest.

The lights were kind of going crazy now, and Sam had to really pull himself together to get them through this. _She's doing this. They're reacting to her powers. Keep it together, Sam. Calm her down._ "Okay, if it hurts, then remember the breathing exercises I showed you. That doesn't help, you can come down to my suite and I'll be there to help you through it, whatever you need." He tried to meet her eyes, "we'll always be here for you, kid."

She shook her head. "I should just...go away."

"Where do you-- where do you want to go?"

Wanda shrugged. "Nowhere. Everywhere. I want to vanish, not exist."

"Wanda..." Sam's heart was near goddamn breaking.

"I really do."

"Look at me," said Sam. "Steve told me you managed to take out Ultron and help people even after you knew your brother was killed. You were strong then, you can be strong a little every day now." She looked up at him, and he sensed a breakthrough. Almost. "And I know you were strong after you lost your parents, after Hydra experimented on you."

"Yes." The vacant stare was back in her eyes. "But all that time, I had my brother." Wanda's lip began to tremble. "He was always there. We had each other, no matter what..." Her face went blank.

_Oh, shit. Wrong move, Wilson._

"God," whimpered Wanda, and underneath Sam's hands the table, the chairs, started to shake. "He was all I had-- all I had left-- God, I don't know what to do now--"

"Wanda--"

"I couldn't protect him!" The words tore their way out of her throat, raw and painful. Sam winced as a potted plant on a shelf toppled and fell. The lights fluctuated like mad and the windows rattled. Wanda gripped the edge of the table hard, as if trying to stay in control, but tears were streaming down her face in rivulets of mascara.

"Wanda, please, it's okay, stay with me--"

"Y-you can't help me-- he was the only one who ever could..."

Sam stood, reaching for her wrists as if to ground her, to comfort her. "You'll be okay." When she looked up at him, there was red light flaring in her eyes.

"How can you say that?" She cried. "How can you know? I will _never_ be okay again--" Crimson magic started to gather and spark under her finger tips. "I want him back!"

The burst of energy she emitted at that point was inconceivable. Sam was thrown backward by the force, and from where he lay flat on his back, he could see the room shift and waver in red light until the air itself started to shimmer--

It was like what he was seeing, whatever he perceived as real in that moment, was being twisted somehow, and at any moment, at a flick of this girl's wrist or a simple word, everything was going to fall apart or change...

Wanda was in the epicenter of it all, surrounded by red magic, staring up at the phenomenon with a mixture of horror and fascination and _I did this?_ and _please, make it stop--_

"Wanda!" Sam called, and like a flame suddenly being blown out it ended. The red magic dissipated. The lights went back to normal. The energy that had filled the room with heat and power was gone.

Wanda slumped over the table, groaning.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, when Sam stood up and came over to her. "I'm sorry-- I didn't mean it--"

She held her arms in front of her face like he was going to hurt her for messing up, but Sam just wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her.

"That wasn't your fault," he said, breathing heavily. "I think we're done for today."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...so, this is a little idea I had rattling around in my head for a while. X-Men has Quicksilver, but no Scarlet Witch. Avengers has Scarlet Witch, but no more Quicksilver. And down in the comics the Maximoffs have just found out they're not actually Magneto's children.
> 
> I finally got a plot sorta constructed for this fic, so I'm throwing it out into the multiverse and hope you like it (and stay with me!)
> 
> Title taken from 'Control' by Halsey.


	2. sometimes the curiosity can kill the soul but leave the pain

"She's never done anything like that before."

"And what are we going to do about it?"

"What else, Romanoff? We ground her, we anchor her to this reality, and we hold her tight enough so she doesn't break."

Steve, Natasha and Sam were holding council in the briefing room, the door tightly shut and all recording instruments disabled. This was a sensitive issue.

"I thought simple therapy was gonna take care of it," Sam said, rubbing his face.

"This is Wanda Maximoff. Nothing's simple," Natasha stated. "I want to help this girl same as you guys, but there's only so much we can do."

Sam let out a humorless, slightly panicked laugh. "Uh, no shit. Nobody freak out, but I think she can do actual magic."

Natasha shook her head. "There's no such thing as magic."

"Up till a couple years ago," Steve said, "I would have said there were no such things as aliens either."

"She made the room distort like it was some kind of painting, like at any moment she could change reality itself," Sam pointed out. He spread his hands. "I saw it, man! She made everything seem so, I dunno, fragile. Temporary, even. Now, how the hell do we deal with something like that?"

"So that's a part of her power set, to change reality?" said Steve incredulously.

"Maybe that is her power," said Sam. "I freaked out. Look, you said Wanda got her powers from Loki's scepter. Which is in itself an object from another dimension. What if her power is somehow...transdimensional?"

Steve tried not to look amused. "I expect this kind of talk from Banner or Selvig, but you?"

"Boys, focus," Natasha said. "We need to deal with the here and now. This time. This reality." She spread her hands. "Now, I have a solution, but you're not gonna like it Steve."

"Try me."

She looked at him with that mischievous-little-sister glint in her eye, "It entails bringing in outside help."

"At this point, we're running out of options," Steve stated. "Wanda's our responsibility now, so if there's any chance we have of helping her, I want to hear it."

Natasha's gaze flicked from him to Sam, who shrugged as if to say _you heard the man_. She folded her hands.

"So, there's this guy on the Hydra Insight list..."

 

* * *

 

Wanda lay curled up in bed, trying to shut the world out.

She felt drained and weak from that last power surge, that out-of-control burst of energy which had scared Sam so much. Wanda hated it. She hated people being scared of her. She hated being out of control and being so scared of herself. That did not happen to normal people.

She concluded that the world is full of monsters, and either one was consumed or destroyed by them, or they became one themselves.

Wanda was very sure that by now, Sam was already telling the others what she'd done. They were probably discussing what was to be done with her, and the thought was terrifying, as so many things had become to Wanda since she'd gotten her powers. Were they going to send her away? Kill her? Find some new, awful, painful way to take away her abilities?

She shut her eyes and thought of Pietro, letting herself miss him and mourn for him. It was the only thing she could do, the only thing that remotely helped-- but as she was quickly realizing, it was also the reason she was losing control.

The trembling was starting again deep inside of her, and helplessly she watched her hands shake. The power was there, deep inside of her, trying to burst its way out in catastrophe and destruction and Wanda didn't know what to do-- or even for how long she could hold it back. She pushed herself out of bed, reeling, knowing she needed to make her way to the other Avengers for help.

The room started to rattle once she got on her feet. Her sparse furniture shook, the doors trembled on their hinges, and the lights were going haywire again-- Wanda tried to hold on, the panic building inside of her. _Not again. Not this again,_ she thought. If she did what she had done that morning, and it got worse, she'd never hear the end of it, they'd kill her for sure, or she would kill them--

 _Wanda, focus!_ But there was nothing to focus on. She needed him, she realized, her brother, her twin, her other half, the stabilizing agent to her out-of-control abilities, and at that moment she so desperately wanted him with every shred of power she had...

The magic started to swell inside her, manifesting in smoky red swirls outside. Wanda was never sure if it was indeed magic, or something else, but it was a part of her yet something she could not control. Horrified, she watched the room go red again, the air shifting and bulging and swirling as if her world was dissolving into diaphanous gauze and silk--

What was she hearing? Were those voices? Were there people out there?

"Stop it," Wanda said aloud, to herself, to no one in particular. "Stop it. Stop...I can't-- I'm scared!"

Screaming for her brother would be pointless. She did it anyway.

And in that moment, reality was ripped apart.

Wanda's senses went awry, yet another thing she couldn't control. But something, a warm familiar feeling, started to curl around her chest, pulling and tugging her, drawing her like a magnet, and she knew in a split second that she had to be there. That whatever it was felt right...

She didn't need to move. All she did was lean forward, and that was it.

She fell through the gap in reality.

Like Alice through the rabbit hole.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is proving wayyy harder for me to write than I anticipated, so I hope you guys stick with me for the long intervals between chapters. Apologies!
> 
> Title taken from 'Her Name is Alice' by Shinedown.


	3. i don't know who you are, but i'm with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back ladies and gentlemen! Behold, rewritten chapter 3 and a newly-uploaded chapter 4 after this.

**2014- Hydra facility, Sokovia**

 

"It takes so much out of me, Baron."

"Give it time, Wanda. With some practice and training, you will be unstoppable."

"What is it? Is it magic?"

Baron Strucker smiled that almost-parental smile of his and took Wanda's shaking hands in his own. Nearby Pietro stood, arms crossed like a sentinel watching over his sister.

"Some will call it magic, but I call it a miracle. You are miracles, the both of you. You survived the effects of the scepter where so many failed along the way."

Wanda watched her hands tremble, "But at what cost?"

"With this power, there will be no costs to pay," Strucker said confidently. "But you are just the beginning. The Scepter has an ancient power linked to multiple points in the cosmos. We, and all that we know, exist only as one of many dimensions, all multiple worlds with different outcomes of history." He grew almost wistful, "Perhaps in one alternate universe Hydra emerged victorious from the start, or perhaps in another none of this is happening at all."

Wanda and Pietro looked at each other, trying to grasp the concept.

"It is this ever-changing aspect of reality that has been manifested in you, Wanda," Strucker said, a note of reverence in his voice. "This...chaos magic, this never-ending roll of the universal dice, this ability to alter probability...that is your gift. Use it properly, and you will have your pick of not just one dimension, but the outcomes and possibilities of them all."

"How do I control it?" Wanda mumbled.

Strucker's grin was almost manic, "Control? No. You can channel it, but you can never control chaos."

 

* * *

 

It was like Wanda's senses had amplified a thousandfold. No longer was she just in one place, but at the apex of a hundred different places all converging at once. The shadowed, almost transparent forms of people she thought she recognized but couldn't really place brushed past her, their voices all chiming in her ear in a susurrus of ghostly noise, each one surrounded by a vague and unfamiliar aura.

But there was one that she did recognize, and it drew her toward it like a magnet, a magnet, tugging deep at her heartstrings. Wanda had spent months in captivity with her brother in the next cell, his aura and mind always hovering at the edge of hers, a constant keeping her in balance. That warm, stable feeling had vanished right after his death. But now, unmistakably, it was here, this was it!

 _It's there, it's him, I can do this, I can bring him back, I can bring him back--_ Wanda clenched her fists without thinking, and just like that, everything slowed down. It was like she was standing inside a train as it neared the station, looking through the glass in the doors as a new set of surroundings slid into view. Wanda saw a boy then, standing in an alleyway. A boy with silver hair and a stunned expression.

He could see her, too.

"Pietro?" Wanda whispered.

The aura was buzzing around him, hanging around him like perfume, and it resonated deep inside her, yet when she looked at him again she realized it was not her Pietro. This is right, she felt, at the same time she started to think no, this is all very, very wrong.

The boy stared at her, genuinely puzzled. "Who the hell is Pietro?"

Wanda recoiled, finally seeing his face clearly. Even if he looked the same age, his face was smoother and rounder, his hair...quite a different kind of silver. (And would her Pietro really be wearing those funky goggles?) But when he looked at her, confused and bewildered and a little scared, there was something in his eyes...just a flicker of familiarity. Enough to make Wanda feel like reaching out to him.

Almost at once she found resistance in between-- an unseen force, like very thin but very strong glass, barring her from him, from the boy who was so like Pietro yet was not. The air seemed to waver and shimmer.

"What is this?" She heard him say. "Are you doing this?"

Wanda moved slowly, circling him from behind the barrier, trying to make sense of it. "Yes I am," she managed, as time seemed to stand still and it was just the two of them, suspended in reality.

The boy lifted his hands warily. "Okay. Lady, I can help you. Trust me, I'm an X-Man--"

"Don't you know me?" Wanda managed, feeling the forces start to slip apart. She held on, gritting her teeth, knowing somehow that if these two...dimensions drifted away, they'd never eclipse again. And she had to hang on to this. She needed to.

"No," the boy said uncertainly. "Look, just calm down, okay?" He tried to move, to turn around, to run away, but found that he couldn't. "Hey, what's the big idea?"

Something pulsed and shuddered in the air around them, and they both looked up and back at each other at the same time.

The boy panicked now, yelling "Stop it!"

"I can't--"

"You gotta let go--"

"No, I can't," gasped Wanda, and with an incredible heave she used her energy to pull together this time, not apart, her reality and his. "I won't--"

The force pulled her forward like a soft vacuum. Wanda spun head over heels, and then almost just as suddenly felt the hard smack of concrete against her knees.

She crouched over, dizzy and weak, her head pounding. Gasping, Wanda forced herself to stay alert and focused just long enough to look at her surroundings. She was in an alleyway, she realized, and while the make of the buildings around her suggested she was still in New York City, they seemed different somehow. She struggled to get to her feet. _Focus_ , she thought again. _Where am I? What did I do?_

Her mind was reeling, even after she steadied herself. She could tell at once that she didn't belong here. Not this place, or even this time. Wanda wasn't quite sure how she knew, she just did; a feeling deep in her gut that twinged and told her this isn't right.

With a growing panic she remembered what Strucker had told her and Pietro, a long time ago, about chaos magic and alternate universes. She had soaked up some of that talk at the Avengers facility, listening to Dr. Selvig recant his experiences with the Tesseract. Was that what happened now? Had she somehow ripped through the fabric between universes and fallen into another one? Or did she use all that chaos magic to change everything or send herself back in time?

That didn't matter now. The boy was there, staring at her.

"Um, okay," he said cautiously. "I'm sure we can work this out." He bent his knees, crouching beside and helping her get up. "Easy now, doll. I know it's always crazy for us the first time, but I know someone who can help you."

"Pietro," was all Wanda managed to say.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" The boy said, slightly miffed. He dusted off his palms when she was able to stand on her own feet. "You look lost. You're a mutant, right?

"Excuse me?" Wanda said.

"What, you never heard the word before?" He spread his hands. "What about freak? Freak o' nature, anybody call you that?"

"I don't understand."

He smacked a palm to his face. "But you have powers. You were born with weird, freaky powers."

"I wasn't born with-- it's complicated," she replied, head still ringing. "Where am I?"

He stared. "You're in New York City."

"But what year is it?"

"What? It's 1986," said the boy. "Did somebody mess around with your head or something? Wow, okaaaaayyyyyyy," he exclaimed, when Wanda started to sway on her feet. She instantly relaxed when he put a hand on her arm to steady her. "Alright, this is clearly weird for both of us. Was expecting to get all the way to San Francisco to see the first concert on Dazzler's 'Light Up' tour, but I guess this is more important. I'm taking you back."

"Back-- back where?" Wanda said, panicking slightly.

"Back to the mansion. The professor'll know what to do."

"Professor?" Wanda repeated.

"Yeah, Professor Xavier," he said simply. "He helps everybody with powers."

Wanda tensed up again when he started to move. "Wait, no. No, no, please, I don't want to go anywhere..."

"I promise it's all right!" cried the boy. "You'll be safe where I'm taking you. Just relax, okay?" He frowned. "Damn, you're more nervy than a junkie. Did somebody mess you up bad? Did people hurt you when they found out what you could do-- whatever you could do?" The boy paused, "Wait, what's your name anyway?"

Wanda swallowed.

"My name is Wanda," she said softly, "and I...I think you're my brother."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from 'I'm With You' be Avril Lavigne


	4. hey, i just met you, and this is crazy

The boy took it well. Relatively well, in Wanda's opinion. At least he didn't laugh at her. He just gave her an incredulous look.

"Wait," he said. "Hang on just a minute. Erik Lehnsherr, that Magneto guy, the mutant they were talking about last year-- is he your father?"

The words just confused Wanda even more. "I don't know an Erik Lehnsherr," She said slowly. "My name is Wanda Maximoff."

Now the boy's eyes went wide. "But that's my last name too."

She just shrugged quietly, beginning to feel unsurprised by the coincidences. "But you are not Pietro."

"Pietro?" He repeated. "No, no my name is Peter. Who's Pietro?"

"Was," Wanda said. "He was my brother. At least where I come from."

Now the boy-- Peter-- was raking his hands through his hair and groaning, pacing in a circle. This was unlike Pietro, who would instantly start yelling for answers. "Jeeeeeezus Christ. Okay, okay." He held up a finger. "Where _do_ you come from?"

Wanda wrung her hands. "Would you believe me if I told you?"

Peter scoffed, "I have seen some weird shit that some people wouldn't believe, what's the worst you could say? You're from another world?"

She didn't say anything, but he must have caught the look in her eyes because he said, "You have to be kidding me. Oh, jeez. This explains everything. No, you're messing with me, you have to be!"

"No," Wanda stated, "I'm not. I came here, to this place, I'm not sure how, but I think it must be my powers."

"No mutant has that kind of power."

"Well, I'm not a mutant," Wanda argued. "I got my powers in a different way. I used to be normal," she said, voice hushed, remembering how almost a lifetime ago she was just an ordinary girl with her twin by her side, starting riots and stealing to survive.

Peter laughed dryly, "Yeah, me too! And then puberty!" He made an exploding noise with his mouth. "So you're a mutant and you're crazy? That's got to be the only explanation."

"I am not crazy," Wanda snapped, and without meaning to her eyes flashed red.

It made Peter stop and stare.

Wanda took a deep breath, just like Sam taught her. She let herself calm down a little until she saw less red. "Piet-- Peter. How old are you in this world?"

"I'm twenty-five," said Peter suspiciously.

"And you go fast."

Peter hesitated for a bit, but then said "Hell yeah. Yeah, I can go fast."

"And you must love sweet things," Wanda continued, trying to keep her voice from shaking, "and you can't get drunk, and you take things that aren't yours sometimes, and you can never sit still, and when you're moving, it seems like the whole world is hanging suspended in time."

"Okay, whoa there," said Peter, holding up one finger. "While all the rest of that is true, I'm gonna have to correct you about the stealing. I don't do that anymore. Well, not often."  
He looked at her, bewildered. "So is that your power? Do you know all this stuff by looking at people?"

"I know. I know these things because where I'm from, I knew you." Wanda paused. "Or someone like you. He was my twin."

Peter grimaced. "I'm really not getting any of this."

Wanda looked down at her hands. They weren't sparking with energy anymore, and if there was one thing she knew she could control, it was what was in others' minds...

She reached out to Peter. "Let me show you."

He hesitated, but moved closer to her. She ignored the wary look in his eyes and placed her fingertips on either side of his head.

The memories rushed between them like a current. Wanda wasn't selective, either; everything she had experienced, every detail of the world she was from, she conveyed to Peter exactly the way she remembered them.

When she released him, he stared at her with an expression of newfound awe understanding.

"Whoa," was all Peter said. "This is creepy as fuck."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"It's cool," he replied, taking a deep breath. He ran a hand through his hair again. "So that man I keep seeing, the one with the white hair...in your world, I'm him?"

"Yes," Wanda said slowly, "but I think that's just another version of you. Like a mirror. Same powers, similar name." She looked at him. "I can just feel it."

"I have a sister," Peter said. "She's younger than me. Her name's Wendy, so in this world, she's probably you. It's a bit early to tell, but I don't think she's going to be a mutant. We don't have the same father."

She just nodded numbly.

"And people did all that bad stuff to you to bring out your powers?" Peter murmured, and she heard a note of sympathy in his voice.

"Yeah."

"Damn." Peter paused, eyes darting around as if trying to gather his thoughts. Wanda could definitely sense the confusion. "Uh, okay. Well, first of all, I believe you now."

Wanda looked up. "Really?"

"Yeah. Totally," said Peter. "Second-- I got lots of questions, lady." He looked at her. "So, uh, how about we talk about this? I could use a milkshake."

 

* * *

 

This was not how Peter imagined the day would go.

He did not expect to run into a (seemingly crazy) lady in the alleyway. He did not expect her to suddenly know some very specific things about him. And he definitely did not expect her to claim that she was his sister and that she was from a different time and world.

The last thing he could possibly imagine would be sitting across from her at a table in a diner, two milkshakes and a tray of fries between them.

(He was _supposed_ to be in San Francisco by now, screaming in a crowd as the wonderful and talented Ali Blair belted her hits.)

But, well, here he was instead.

And God knew why the hell he was handling this the way he was handling it; what had possessed him to invite her for a drink instead of just whisking her off to the mansion and dumping the problem on Professor Xavier, but she had seemed really spooked, and--

He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something naggingly familiar about her.

By the time the two of them had more or less managed to straighten things out, Peter found himself concluding that she wasn't actually crazy.

The rest of the universe was.

"So...no mutants in your world?"

Wanda shook her head, "No mutants."

"But there are people with powers."

"Yes. Not as many as here, but quite many."

"And they call them...?"

Wanda shrugged. "There are many words for it. Miracles, enhanced, superhuman...they haven't always been around like the mutants have. People mostly get their powers from science and technology." And then there was Thor, she thought, but she didn't fancy explaining him to Peter. "Sometimes that means bad things, but sometimes...there can be good things." This time she thought about Vision, who was fascinating and enigmatic.

She caught Peter absentmindedly dipping a single French fry into his milkshake and trying to process everything that had been going on.

"Your turn," she said quietly. "Why did you ask me if I knew someone called Erik Lehnsherr?"

"Ah, well, y'see," said Peter matter-of-factly, "Erik happens to be one of the most powerful mutants and almost usually involved in or responsible for a ton of shit that's been going down in the world lately." He put the fry in his mouth and chewed. "He's also my dad. And I guess, by extension," Peter gestured to her with his straw, "your dad."

Wanda raised her eyebrows. "I was not expecting this."

"Yeah." He paused. "Thing is, he doesn't know. I had a chance to tell him, six months ago, but I never..." Peter trailed off. "Y'know, lemme start at the beginning. Can't do the whole memory-exchange thing you did, but I'll do my best..."

To his surprise, Wanda reached out to his across the table. "Here, let me help."

Her fingers on the side of his head again, Peter felt the same rush of memory he did before, only this time she was drawing them out of him. The Sentinels. The Pentagon breakout. Magneto's attack on the President and Mystique's intervention. Then Apocalypse, the four horsemen, the X-Men, the Professor and his school...

Wanda pulled away with a gasp.

"I know, I know!" cried Peter. "It's crazy. Apocalypse, I know you didn't have him in your world, but trust me, he was WAY worse than the robot--"

But Wanda wasn't thinking about that. "There are-- there are so many of you! Of us! There are people like me--" she met Peter's gaze with a smile, and he found it oddly endearing. "This is incredible!"

"Yeah," said Peter, returning the smile, "welcome to our world."

She rubbed her forehead. "I think I understand now. This thing that happened, it is like two separate versions of reality."

"Except I guess someone thought it would be funny to have only one of us in either of the realities," said Peter with a weary shrug. "'Cause your twin is dead, and I'm here."

"I know." Strucker was right, she thought. "And I don't know how...or if...I can ever go back to my world."

"See, that's why I think we should go to the school," insisted Peter. "Mutant or not, you still got powers, and if you need help, the Professor's our best bet."

"Well...nobody seems to be able to help me in my world," Wanda said. "Maybe it's different here." Maybe in this world, where there seemed to be more people like her, she'd have a better chance of hacking her uncanny, astonishing ability.

Besides. She knew she could trust Peter.

He was watching her, waiting for her to make a solid decision. "So, whaddaya want?"

Wanda nodded, managing a smile. "Okay, I guess. I never actually finished school."

Peter beamed. "Well, there ya have it! I'll take you to Charlie and we can find a way to send you back to your world. But in the meantime, you are gonna LOVE the place. We have a ton of fun things to do, great teachers, oh my God, I think you're gonna like Kurt a lot-- maybe nobody has to know you're not technically a mutant. And hey!" He suddenly added, excited. "We'll just tell everyone you found out Erik's your dad too. Am I speaking too fast?"

Wanda laughed, and Peter decided he really like making her laugh. "Maybe to other people, but I could always understand my brother. I can still understand you." She smiled, "Yes, that sounds very good. I like it." Wanda let herself imagine it. She thought of going to the school, staying there and making friends. The Avengers had welcomed her, sure, but there was no one in that world who could completely handle or understand her, or her powers. Besides, here there was Peter. Even if he wasn't Pietro, being around him made Wanda feel more right than she did in such a long time. They just clicked.

He was on his feet in a split second, extending an arm to her. "Alright! Then let's hit it."

"Hey!" snapped a voice behind them, making both Peter and Wanda turn around. The manager was standing by the counter, hands on her hips, an upset-looking waiter standing nearby. "I know what you people are. We don't serve muties in here, _remember, Jerry?_ " She added, with a vindictive glare at the waiter.

He started trembling. "But I didn't think they were--"

"Jeremy, are you an idiot? The kid's hair's a dead giveaway," she retorted. Turning back to the pair, she glowered. "Don't bother paying for your drinks, freak show*. Just get out."

Wanda raised her eyebrows. Peter simply shrugged. "Ya see what we have to deal with in this world?"

She felt the magic begin to crackle underneath her skin, but not enough to make a manifestation.

Wanda stood and put a hand on Peter's arm. "Let's go. The fries were crap, anyway."

 

 

 

 

 

*a reference to another of Evan Peters' works...;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from 'Call Me Maybe' by Carly Rae Jepsen


	5. you're something like a phenomena

Outside of the diner, Wanda half-expected Peter to scoop her up and start running the way Pietro always did, but he didn't. Instead he stood behind her, put one hand on her waist and the other on the back of her head.

"Um. What are you doing?"

"I'm holding you like this so you don't get whiplash," Peter explained patiently, as if he'd had to do it before.

"Huh?"

"Whiiiiiiiiplaaaaaaaaaaashh," he said, very slowly.

"I don't get it."

He sighed. "Never mind, you'll see."

He moved, and the world blurred around them.

 

* * *

 

They stopped in the courtyard of a grand estate, with lush fields and trees everywhere. The main building was old, brick and wood and stone, but to Wanda it seemed strictly, almost stubbornly constant, as if it refused to let the changing world and all its dangers move it from its spot. She was instantly fascinated.

She could hear people, too. And they sounded like they were having fun.

"Welcome to the home of the uncanny X-Men," said Peter grandly. He beamed at her. "What do you think?"

Wanda did not tear her eyes away from the mansion's facade. "I think I want to go in."

There were more people than Wanda realized inside. And each-- even if it didn't look like it-- had their own mutation, something unique and wonderful that no one else could do. In the foyer Peter marched straight up to two girls talking, one of them in a yellow jacket and pigtails, the other with dark red hair.

"Peter!" exclaimed the redhead, even before she turned around. "Where did you go? We were wondering where you'd snuck off to. You may be one of the older X-Men but you still can't just run off without telling Hank." She gasped. "You were trying to go to San Francisco?!"

"Ah, fuck telepathy," he mumbled.

The girl in the yellow jacket squealed. "Oh my God! Don't tell me you were trying to make Ali Blair's first concert without us!"

"I-- ugh," groaned Peter. He spread his arms, frustrated. "Yes! Fine, goddammit, I was trying to get to San Francisco. BUT I stopped in New York City to buy-- uh, to appropriate-- this David Bowie record, and then I ran into-- Wanda," he called. "Get over here!"

Wanda walked toward him, looking a little bit sheepish. Instantly the two girls raised their eyebrows.

"Peter," said the yellow-jacketed girl. "You know the rules about bringing girlfriends and boyfriends to the mansion..."

"What?" Exclaimed Wanda and Peter simultaneously. Peter sputtered. "Jubilee! What do you think of me?! No, no it's not like that. Wanda," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, "is...well, my sister."

The girls stared.

"What?"

"Yeah, Erik's been busier than we thought he was," Peter said dismissively. "She's a mutant."

"I'm a mutant," said Wanda, with an attempt at a convincing smile.

"And that is why," Peter said, stressing the importance of their situation, "we gotta see the Prof. Like, right now."

The redhead tsked. "You just missed him. He took the jet to Russia to meet another potential student...something about metal skin? Scott took him."

"Hank?"

"Lab. Busy. Prone to setting things on fire when he's disturbed," said Jubilee.

"Mystique?" Peter tried, getting desperate now.

"Mission," both girls replied cryptically. Jubilee added, "Besides, who knows where-- or who-- Mystique is half the time?"

"Jeez," sighed Peter. "Okay. Well, Wanda and I are gonna sit tight until the Prof comes back. While we're at it, Jean, could you send him a line?"

"I'm not a telepathic phone service, Peter," the redhead retorted.

"Nah, I just thought you'd be nice enough to contact X, because the situation we have is kinda important...you know, Erik's daughter and all..."

"Can you do the metal thing too?' Jubilee asked curiously.

Peter shook his head. "Wanda's been having--"

"Performance issues," Wanda finished. "We are hoping your Professor can help. I understand he's a-- an old friend of our father's?" She glanced at Peter, and he nodded.

"I'm not sure about that," Jean said anxiously. "She's not exactly a mutant."

"Huh?" said Jubilee.

Wanda glanced at Peter. She was prepared to think the jig was up, but he stuck to the story-- exactly the same way Pietro would insist, while they were growing up and getting into trouble, on the alibi that proved they hadn't been up to no good.

"But she's got powers!" Peter argued. "I'm pretty sure the Prof can do something."

"I don't want to brag," said Jean, "but I'm the closest thing to the Professor we have on campus right now, and I can already tell...whatever you have," she addressed Wanda now, "it's just not like us. I'm sorry." She reached out to give her a comforting pat on the arm.

The moment they made contact, it was like two hot wires crossing. The bright pulse of red light and the accompanying energy surge knocked both girls apart and to the floor, temporarily blinding everyone else in the room.

When the air cleared, Wanda rolled upright, trembling. _Oh, God._ The last thing she needed was to cause trouble in a _school_ , in a place that wasn't even her world--

Across from her, Jean looked utterly bewildered. "Okay, what was that?"

In a split second Peter was at Wanda's side, helping her up. "You alright?"

Wanda tried not to whimper. "I'm sorry, it just happened--"

"Jean," Peter said levelly, putting his hands on her upper arms to steady her, "is the most powerful telekinetic in the school. You guys probably just had a psychic reaction to each other."

Wanda could feel the energy inside of her starting to crackle on the edge of release. She clenched her fists, holding it back just enough.

"You're really, really different," said Jean, with an odd mix of awe and apprehension. "I've never felt that kind of telekinetic energy in someone before. It feels otherworldly."

"Otherworldly, haha!" said Peter with an unconvincing laugh. He threw one arm around Wanda's shoulders. "Don't be silly Jean. Wanda's perfectly normal...for a mutant."

Jean rolled her eyes. "Don't insult me, Pete. And don't lie to me either."

"All we need," Peter said, raising his voice slightly, "is to calm down until Charlie gets here. Everything will be fine! In the meantime, I'm gonna let Wanda sit down for a few minutes...in peace and quiet," he added.

"Peter," said Jubilee reproachfully.

He winked. "Catch you later."

He grabbed Wanda and whisked her up the stairs and into his room, slamming the door shut and locked behind them.

In the foyer, Jubilee was helping Jean get back on her feet.

"Are you okay?" she said. "What just happened?"

"I can't explain it," said Jean uncomfortably. "I think I really should call the Professor."

 

* * *

 

Wanda found herself sitting on a beanbag chair in front of a merrily crackling fire. Although the rest of the room was rather old-fashioned, some choice pieces of furniture-- not to mention a Ms. Pacman arcade game in the corner-- were definitely more current by 80s standards. Peter was leaning on the mantlepiece, glancing at the door.

"Well, disaster averted," he said breezily.

"Thanks," sighed Wanda. "I didn't really want everybody thinking I was a freak."

"We are all freaks here," he shrugged.

"But you heard what Jean said. I'm different." She shook her head. "I told you they would be able to tell! Now they think you're lying to them. This isn't any good, Peter."

"Look, I'm just as thrown as you are," Peter said, spreading his hands, "but I can't figure anything out! The only one I trust to have the answer is the Professor. We just need to wait for him to come back, and then we'll work it out." He sat down on the side of the bed.

Wanda's gaze followed him, and landed on the cork board beyond him. It was full of newspaper clippings, some in different languages. Wanda recognized Cyrillic, so she got up and walked toward it.

"That's my old man, by the way," said Peter, nodding at the board.

"Magneto?" Wanda repeated, eyes traveling all over the letters and pictures. "Who came up with that?"

"Beats me," shrugged Peter.

She soaked up the words 'mutant extremist,' 'danger to society,' 'cause of many deaths.' "They're making him look like a terrorist."

"He, uh, he kind of is." Peter frowned. "The Professor said there was a time he was lost."

Wanda didn't know how to say that she knew what it was like, to believe in and fight for the wrong thing and realize it only too late...and it didn't help that you had power other people were afraid of.

Instead she grinned. "Can I tell you something?"

Peter crossed his legs on the bed, not bothering to take off his boots. "Sure."

"So was I."

He raised his eyebrows. "No way."

"Yeah, look at the memories I gave you. I was a terrorist for about half a month before Pietro and I decided we were on the wrong side." She turned to him. "Before that, we were just rebels."

Peter grinned back at her, "There ain't nothing wrong with that, sister."

She studied the news photos. "The helmet makes him look scary. But all those photos where it's just his face...don't you think he looks sad?"

"He did, last I saw him." Peter was quiet for a while, then added, "You know, if you read that one from last year, it says he had a family, like, a wife and another kid. But he lost them, too. That's part of the reason why he joined Apocalypse's lonely hearts club band, I guess."

"And you did not tell him you were his son?"

Peter shrugged. "Didn't feel right. Even when things calmed down. Especially when things calmed down. I think we both needed time. I haven't stopped looking though."

"I guess we are both looking for our family," she mumbled.

"You looked a little too well," joked Peter, making Wanda chuckle. "But your parents in your world, they were, like, normal, right? I can see it in the memories you showed me. They seemed...nice." He paused. "You guys were a real family."

Wanda nodded sadly before saying, "I can see your mother through your memories, too. She is kind. She did her best for you, and your little sister."

Peter wrapped his arms around his knees, almost-grown man that he was. "Yeah, I guess she did."

Wanda wrapped her own arms around herself and made a decision. "If I said I would help you find your father, whether or not we did find a way back into my world. Would you let me?"

Peter sat up. "You wanna do that?"

"Of course I wanna do that." She turned to him. "Pietro and I, we didn't have much time with our parents. If I can change that in one of many different worlds, then I will."

"Even if they say he's, you know, a bad guy?" said Peter uncertainly.

"Especially because of that," Wanda responded. "You said so yourself, he lost his family. Maybe you both need each other."

Peter thought about it for a second. He nodded. "I guess two Maximoffs can be enough to convince one Professor."

"Exactly."

He looked up. "You sure?"

Wanda nodded. She was absolutely certain.

Peter seemed to be satisfied then. "Okay. We'll do this thing together." He smiled at her and she smiled at him, and any leftover tension from Wanda's contact with Jean suddenly faded away.

She looked around. "I like your room," Wanda commented. "I realize I'm the newest thing in here."

"Bet everything must look like an antique to you," said Peter.

"Not really. That's an antique," she said, gesturing to a 50s-era glass lamp by the bedside table, "but this is vintage," she pointed to the stack of records on the shelf.

He gasped. "But all that shit is new!"

Wanda grinned. "It's classic to me. I don't even know half of what's on that shelf."

"Oh, God," said Peter incredulously. "Seriously! They don't, like, preserve the good stuff where you're from? In the year 2016, will all this just go to waste in this world too?" Wanda started laughing uncontrollably. Peter got to his feet, pulling record after record off the shelf and tossing them at her. "Led Zeppelin! Pink Floyd! Rush! No sister of mine is ever gonna go through life without being touched by the masters!"

"Okay, okay," laughed Wanda, picking up the Pink Floyd album. "How about we start with this one?"

 

* * *

 

"Here you go, Captain. One long black from your favorite black soul brothah."

Steve Rogers took the steaming mug of coffee from Sam with a smile. "Thanks, Sam."

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

Both Steve and Sam looked up to see Vision floating into the kitchen, coming to land not far from them. Sam tried not to look freaked out-- he could never get used to the purple and green fella.

"I haven't seen Miss Maximoff this morning," he said.

"She's in her room, Vision," Steve said. "She...needed to be alone for a while."

Vision tilted his head. "She wasn't in her room when I checked."

"Checked?" Repeated Sam, and the android nodded.

"I was thinking she might need someone to talk to her, and so I approached her room. I did not detect any signs of inhabitants, and assumed she was merely keeping very quiet, but upon scanning the room for her biosignature there were no results." He paused before adding "I finally phased into the room and found it empty. I assumed you had sent her on that mission with Agent Romanoff, but that can't be. Romanoff works alone."

Steve stared. "Wanda's gone?"

"Impossible," Sam said. "Where could she go?"

"Sam, tell Maria to get everyone on base in the know," Steve said, rising from his seat. "If anybody knows where she is tell them to contact us immediately." He turned to Vision. "Wanda's not on that assignment with Romanoff. It's a classified task so she's doing it on her own."

"Then I don't know where she could be," Vision said, and there was a note of worry in his voice. Steve tried not to make his double take so obvious. Could androids even be worried?

Sam sighed. "If she's left, this could be my fault. I shouldn't have shown her I was so scared."

"Buddy, it's okay," Steve assured him. "I have a feeling that if she doesn't want to be found, then she won't. But in her state, it'll be dangerous for her to be out anywhere by herself. The most we can do is patrol the area."

"And by area, you mean the entire city."

Steve nodded, "That's what I mean."

"I'll come," Vision said at once, and neither man objected.

Sam glanced at the unconsumed coffee mug in his hand. "What about your coffee?"

"Coffee can wait!" said Steve, and was already out the door, Vision following.

Sam sighed again. The sooner Romanoff came back with an answer, the better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from 'Phenomena' by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs


	6. excuse me sir, am i your daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It. Gets. Crazy.

Wanda fell asleep. How you can sleep through classic rock, she had no idea, but she was exhausted, and before she even knew it she was closing her eyes.

She felt safer than she had in a long time.

Her dreams were strange, though. In her own head, Wanda stood at the center of all realities. There were windows and there were portals, and each opened up to a different dimension than the ones she knew. And voices-- so many voices, from all the worlds everywhere.

"I don't want this," she heard herself say. There was no answer, of course, but she couldn't help but feel that someone was listening.

Wanda looked around her, wondering where exactly she was. Was she here in Peter's world? Or in between all dimensions? Past her floated a window, edged in red magic, showing her a glimpse of something happening very far away. She saw, to her surprise, three figures, walking down a familiar hallway.

"Sam!" She exclaimed, moving toward the window. "Captain! Vision--?"

Vision was saying, "I'm currently accessing the Internet. So far no reported sightings of Miss Maximoff in the city..."

"You're accessing the Internet?" said Sam.

"Well, yes. I am constantly connected to all of Earth's networks in the back of my mind."

"Damn, first the hammer, now the net, is there anything you can't do?"

"Guys?!" said Wanda. "Why are you-- I'm okay. You don't have to look for me. I'm right here!" She moved toward the portal. "I'm coming--" Wanda stopped, remembering what she said to Peter.

She couldn't leave him! They were going to find Erik together. And Wanda never broke promises to her brother, not even if he was from a different reality.

The three Avengers walked past. They didn't seem to see her anyway.

With a great effort, Wanda tore herself away and turned around.

Time to wake up. She looked around, trying to find the world she'd come from. It was difficult, since she didn't even know how she managed to be here in this strange in-between place. Wanda focused her power, trying to think of Peter and his world.

Let me go back let me go back I promised I promised him we were going to find his father we were going to find his father we were going to--

Almost beyond her control, she found herself standing in front of another portal that just opened up. And while this portal felt like Peter's world, she didn't see the place she had come from. Instead Wanda saw what seemed to be a small apartment, sparsely furnished. There was a man sitting on an old couch. He had a teacup on the table nearby and his head in his hands.

Wanda was standing so close the space between her and the portal started to go wobbly, the same way it did when she first drifted into Peter's world. Then the two dimensions started to blend, and the man looked up.

He saw her. He saw Wanda. And she saw him.

"Erik?" she gasped, recognizing the unkempt, world-weary face from the newsprints.

His jaw dropped. "What is this?"

"You see me?" said Wanda, and her voice was oddly muffled, like she was speaking to him from inside an aquarium. She felt like it too, all floaty and surreal, like his world was just borrowing her for a minute with the intention of spitting her back into the in-between if she did too much.

Erik stood abruptly, both scared and fascinated. "How did you--"

Something tugged at her from beyond the portal. Wanda knew she couldn't stay. She had to act fast, trying to take in any detail of the apartment, any clue where he might be in case she could go back--

"We're coming!" Wanda yelled. "We're gonna come find you!"

"Who?" he demanded.

Wanda tried something else. "He's your son. The boy with silver hair, he's your son!"

"Who are you?"

"I'm..." Wanda swallowed, unable to linger any more. "I'm your--"

She couldn't hold on. The portal spat her back out.

She tumbled into the in-between, and the hole that opened into Erik's apartment disappeared. But another one materialized close by.

"There!" she exclaimed, catching sight of the room in the mansion. The fire was dying low now, Peter was on his own bed, ankles crossed and reading through a few comic books, and another figure was still curled up comfortably on the beanbag. It took Wanda a moment to realize it was her.

With a tremendous shudder, everything went bright, then very dark, and then--

Wanda was gasping awake, back in her own body, back on the beanbag, startling Peter out of his wits.

"Wanda?" he said, scrambling to his feet. "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him, feeling the magic starting to flicker and flash around her. Bursts of energy popped between them, and the lights in Peter's room fluctuated erratically.

"I found him!" she managed to gasp. "Erik is-- I think we can go back to him--" The air in the room began to shimmer again. In spite of the panic and confusion, Wanda couldn't help but feel a little accomplished-- this time she was really bending reality on purpose, not by accident.

Peter, however, still looked frazzled. "You're doing the thing again, Wanda! Stay here," He urged, grabbing her wrist. "Stay with me. Don't slip out of this world!"

"You don't get it-- we have to go in between before we can get to Erik," Wanda explained. "I know where he is!"

"What?" said Peter, bewildered. "You can go to him? How are you sure it's even the same world?"

"I know," Wanda said, gritting her teeth. "I just do."

Then she felt that deep tug again, pulling her forward. The trembling began deep inside of her, but even when the room shifted and wavered like hot air above an overheating engine, Wanda felt a little bit more-- dare she say control?

She stretched a hand out to Peter. "Come on, we don't have enough time!"

"What the heck?" Peter said. He grabbed her hand anyway as the energy started to swirl around them like a nebulous red hurricane.

And then, the worst possible thing he could think of happened. Somebody started banging on the door.

"Peter!" shouted Jean from outside. "What's going on? Is Wanda doing this?"

"They're distracting me!" Wanda cried.

Peter made a low, frustrated growling noise. "I got it covered, Jean! Stay out of this!"

"Peter, please!" It sounded like a half-sob now. "Tell her, the energy she's releasing, it hurts!"

"Oh, man," muttered Peter. "They know, Wanda."

"You want me to stop?!"

"I want you to hurry the fuck up!"

Outside the door, Jean was rubbing the sides of her head frantically. "I can't get through to them. Or open the door! Kurt," she turned to the blue-skinned boy in the plaid shirt standing at the fore of the small crowd of students that had formed in the hallway. "I need you to get in."

In a puff of smoke, Kurt Wagner disappeared, only to reappear in the same spot. "I can't! I tried, but I think she is keeping me out..."

"She can do that?" Jubilee said incredulously from behind him. "Okay, holy crap. What is she?"

Within the room, Wanda squeezed her eyes shut, focusing on the force that tugged her toward him from all those miles away.

"He wants his family back," Wanda whispered. "And so do I. It's drawing us together like a-- a magnet."

Peter noticed the unintentional pun, but said nothing of it; now wasn't exactly the time for jokes. "So we're going to him?"

She didn't get to answer. The rifts in reality opened.

This time, Wanda didn't simply fall through. She held Peter's hand tight and took a step forward.

Somewhere in between universes, she stumbled.

* * *

 

They landed in a hallway that didn't seem familiar to either of them.

"The fuck are we?" yelped Peter.

"I don't know," said Wanda, "I just focused on your father and then--"

"What is this?"

They looked up to see an elderly gentleman standing in a doorway. Wanda raised her eyebrows. He was clad in almost exactly the same garb as she had seen Erik, through Peter's memories, wearing as Magneto. Helmet, cape and all.

But he didn't look like Erik. He looked, to Wanda, more familiar. Those same eyes would greet her, smiling and kindly, at the breakfast table, would flutter shut in affection as he kissed first her head, then Pietro's at bedtime. Only in this world, those eyes had seen much, much worse...

"Father?" she said, in spite of herself.

The man looked surprised. "Children...?"

"Wanda," said Peter urgently, grabbing her arm. "Wrong guy. Not. Our. Dimension!"

"Wanda and Pietro?" said the man in disbelief. "What does this mean?"

For half a second, Wanda jolted them completely into this reality, and for some reason she thought she could feel something snapping very far away. This time, when she looked at the man, she could see little or almost no resemblance to her own father. He was someone else entirely, the same way with her and Peter in their worlds...

"Oh-- this was a mistake!" Wanda couldn't help but say.

"Ya think?!" retorted Peter.

They could not stay, Wanda knew it. When she let herself feel it, the tugging was still there, drawing her to Erik. The right Magneto. Again the world shifted and swirled and started to blur red.

"Come back!" the other Magneto demanded. "Explain this!"

"We're sorry!"

Wanda grabbed Peter's hand. They were completely consumed by the red magic. All that remained, when the hexes dissipated and the pair were gone, was the man in the doorway.

Max Eisenhardt removed the helmet. He sighed, shaken by the encounter. And because he'd had enough experience to know that reality manipulation had its ramifications.

Max moved through the doorway, long cloak rippling behind him. He had experts to call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from 'Under the Water' by The Pretty Reckless


	7. what have we done, oh my god

Usually, when the Black Widow comes to call, she surprises people. They do not surprise her.

That wasn't the case now.

When Natasha walked up to the address she had found on Hydra records, nestled somewhere in the upscale part of New York City, she expected to knock on the door and be kept waiting until it finally opened.

This time, however, she found the door opening suddenly just as she reached the steps leading up to it. A man with an impressive head of wavy hair and mustache to rival Tony Stark's in arrogance peered out.

"Agent Romanoff," he said, somewhat urgently. "I had a feeling the Avengers would send someone to call."

"Dr. Strange?" said Natasha, trying to hide her surprise. "How did you know I was coming?"

"Magic," he said, cryptically. "Or something like that. But I don't have time for an explanation! You're here, you'd better come in. This is urgent and we need to fix this immediately." He went back into the house, leaving the door open for Natasha. She followed him in warily.

"Um, is this a bad time?" she said.

"No. It's exactly the right time," Dr. Stephen Strange said, leading her further into his home. "You're here because of your girl Scarlet Witch, right?"

"Yeah," said Natasha, bewildered. "How did you--?"

"I told you, magic," said Strange. "Well, in a few seconds you're going to get a call from Captain Rogers, and he'll say that Miss Maximoff has disappeared--"

"Hang on," Natasha said.

"-- and I will say, 'yes, I know how to find her!'" finished Strange impatiently. "And now we have to go get her. Now, come on!"

"Wait a second," Natasha said, raising her voice. "Wanda's disappeared? Where did she go?"

Dr. Strange gave her a wry look, as if he was enjoying understanding everything when she could not. "A parallel universe, of course."

 

* * *

 

Peter felt his back smack heavily against a tiled floor, and he went sprawling heels-over-head. The moment he righted himself, however, he could only think of Wanda.

She was lying nearby, propping herself up on one elbow and trying to steady her breathing.

"Are you okay?" They both said to each other at the same time.

Peter rubbed his backside. "I'm good...you?"

"A little woozy," said Wanda. "Like the first time I went into your world. But it worked!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet and looking around. "This is Erik's apartment! Where is he?"

But there was something wrong. Erik wasn't there.

"It looks like he left," Peter said uncertainly, noticing that the apartment was strangely still and empty. A newspaper lay on the small coffee table nearby.

"Check it out," he said, picking it up. "'Los Angeles Times.' We're in LA. What was Erik doing here?"

"More importantly, what is Erik not doing here?" Wanda said, already walking around the small flat and finding nobody, only a room with an open door and an empty bed.

"Maybe someone knows where he went," Peter said.

The door was locked, but Wanda easily dealt with that. A single hex bolt and they were out. In less than five seconds Peter had them both down to the entrance of the building, where they startled the doorman.

"Hey, how'd you kids get in--"

"We're looking for Er-- for the man who lives in No. 17," Peter quickly said, overriding him. Both of them, the girl in scarlet and the boy in silver, seemed to cut intimidating figures. "D'you know where he went?"

The doorman squinted. "Uh, tall guy? Brown hair, lots of stubble, amazing blue eyes, perfect jawline?"

"Uh," said Peter, surprised at this description, while Wanda tried not to giggle. "Yeah, him, whatever. Where did he go?"

"You just missed him. Half an hour ago, a cab picked him up right here."

They exchanged looks. "Do you know where the cab was headed?" Wanda demanded.

The doorman looked frazzled. "Calm down, honey! I heard him tell the driver to go to the international airport. Had a suitcase with him, that was all." He tilted his head. "Why are you kids so interested in him, anyway?"

"Because," Wanda said, striding past to open the door herself. "He is our father."

"Totally," Peter said, tossing a casual salute to the astonished doorman and following Wanda outside. "Thanks, man."

On the sidewalk, Wanda turned to Peter. "Do you even know where the airport is?"

In answer Peter zipped away from her, toward a magazine stand nearby, and returned in half a second holding a map aloft. "I do now."

Wanda could barely keep up as he opened the map and started memorizing it at an astonishing pace. Finally he folded it up again and tucked it into his jacket. "Got it. Let's do this thing." Peter took his former whiplash-preventive position behind Wanda.

"You know, Pietro always picked me up," she pointed out.

Peter shrugged. "I've tried that, but it slows me down. Plus, your Pietro looked way more buff than me."

"That's because you haven't grown up running away from crowd control police every week."

"Yeah," said Peter, "but that doesn't mean I didn't grow up running."

They sped up, and the streets of Los Angeles slowed way, way down. Wanda nearly screamed for Peter to stop when they ran directly into traffic, but he navigated in between vehicles expertly. Through his eyes, they were all moving infinitesimally slowly, and the whole world seemed momentarily frozen. Like time in a bottle.

It remained that way when they got to LAX, surrounded by crowds on either side. But Peter was able to navigate between them too, and soon both of them saw the one face in the crowd that they were looking for.

Erik Lehnsherr wore a hat low over his eyes and a grey scarf, but Peter was sure for a fact that it was him. He stopped moving only a few yards away from him.

Wanda didn't miss a beat. "Erik!" she called out. In the rustle of noise around them, it was easy for her voice to get drowned out. There were just too many people.

"Wanda, cut it out!" she heard Peter say, and only then realized that energy was forming around them again, snapping and forming and fading, only to spark up again. Metal detectors went haywire and bags and boxes started to tremble.

Wanda swayed. "Oh, no. Not now!" She doubled over, trying to gain control over the trembling that had started deep inside her again. "Why now?" This time, she wasn't just confused-- she was straight-up frustrated. Why did this always happen every time it shouldn't?

People were beginning to take notice, the more Wanda's powers started to affect their surroundings. They turned around to look at her.

So did Erik.

The confusion on his face was instantly replaced by surprise and recognition as he saw Wanda, knees buckling and held upright by Peter, who was staring right at him. "You."

Peter raised a hand and couldn't help but grin. "Hey, Dad."

Somebody screamed, and the swarm of people started to move in different directions, trying to get as far away from Wanda as possible and keep their luggage from floating into the air-- because that was exactly what was happening now.

"No-- no, you stay down!" Peter heard Wanda mutter frantically, attempting to pull the objects back into gravity. It was working, but not well enough. Already security personnel were arriving.

"Wanda, we got company!" yelped Peter. Desperately, he looked around for Erik--

  
Peter saw him fighting against the flow of the crowd, trying to get to them. Something lit up in the back of his mind. _He's not turning away from us. He knows._ His X-Men training kicked in. Deal with the major problem first, then formulate an exit strategy. Easy.

Erik reached them, although it looked like he wasn't even sure why he was there.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on," he said, "but I'm hoping you both have an explanation."

"Wow. You sound like a dad already," said Peter. "Wait here, I'll be back for you!"

He grabbed Wanda and whisked her out, past the crowd, past the barriers, past the security officers attempting to control the situation, lingering just long enough to pluck a latte out of somebody's hand, take a sip, decide he didn't like it and toss it over his shoulder. Peter stopped outside, in the parking lot. He deposited Wanda on her feet.

"Peter, Erik is still--"

"I'm gonna get him," he assured her. "You try to keep control of-- whatever this thing is," he made a wiggly motion with his hands. "And stay out of sight!"

Then it was back into the crowd again, making his way to Erik. The older man recoiled almost at once when Peter grabbed hold of him.

"Remember this?" He said with a grin. "Whiiiiiiiiiiplaaaaaaaashh!"

"Oh, dear God in heaven," Erik managed to say, before Peter rushed them outside once again.

Wanda was waiting, and looking practically exhausted with the effort of keeping her powers in check. On the bright side, Peter thought, she wasn't making things float anymore.

"It's you," Erik said, the moment Peter let go of him. He took a step toward Wanda, "You're the girl who was in my apartment last night, aren't you?"

"Yes!" said Wanda, smiling despite her tense state.

"You said, the boy with silver hair--"

"PEOPLE!" yelled Peter impatiently. "It ain't over yet! We gotta move!" He made a beeline straight for an ordinary-looking station wagon.

"Oh, no. Don't tell me you want to steal that car!" Wanda said.

"I want to steal this goddammn car," growled Peter, "so that we can get out of here!"

"Can't you just--" Wanda was feeling dizzy by now, and arguing was too much of an effort for her. "Can't you just grab us and run?"

They were interrupted by the solid crunch and screech of bending metal, and they looked at the car to find the doors wrenched open by an unseen force.

The pair of them glanced back at Erik, who was holding a fist aloft and wore a determined expression on his face that indicated he was taking no shit.

"You want to get out? Let's get out."

Peter made a face at Wanda. "Dad says so!"

"Ugh! Fine," she managed to say, before toppling over in fatigue, right into Erik's arms. He caught her almost without meaning to.

"Guess we have no choice!" Peter exclaimed, noticing the spill of people trying to exit the parking lot in a panic and the sudden appearance of security coming out of the airport building. He hopped into the driver's seat. "Wanda, I know you're tired, but I'm gonna need a boost!"

From the backseat where Erik had deposited her, Wanda stretched out a hand and focused the last of her energy into the ignition. The car rumbled to life.

Peter hit the gas, and they made their screeching escape.

 

* * *

 

There was a ringing in Erik's ears even after the tires stopped screeching and they made it onto the freeway. Nobody seemed to be following them, and on the open road they were just another beat-up station wagon on its way out of the state. But even if Peter had relaxed a little and was driving the car at a reasonable speed, the air inside the vehicle was tense.

The girl in the backseat had fallen asleep, weary after all the excitement. Her power was a little beyond Erik's comprehension at the moment, so he focused on the simple and familiar-- the boy next to him in the driver's seat.

"Is it true what she told me?" he said quietly.

"Huh?" said Peter.

"The girl." Erik nodded toward her. "She appeared in my apartment last night, just out of thin air. She said you were coming. She said you were my son."

Peter thinned his lips, uncharacteristically silent.

"You called me Dad," said Erik, staring straight ahead.

"Yeah," Peter finally mumbled. "Yeah, I am your son."

"Martine Maximoff," said Erik.

Peter chuckled at the mention of his mother's name. "You remember. Great."

"I never really forget," Erik admitted. He looked at Peter. "All this time. Did you know?"

"Not at first. Mom only told me after I busted you outta the Pentagon. I could have told you, six months ago when we fought Apocalypse." Peter loosened his grip on the wheel. "I just didn't. I dunno."

Erik just sighed.

Peter wasn't sure how he expected to tell Erik that they were related, but it certainly wasn't like this.

"And the girl?" Erik finally asked. "Is she..." The word 'mine' danced on the tip of his tongue.

Peter sighed. "We're twins." See, that wasn't really a lie, was it?

"She wasn't with you the first couple of times we met."

"She was...studying abroad before her mutant power manifested," said Peter. Now that was a straight-up lie, and he was surprised at how easily the ruse was rolling off his tongue. He decided to lay it on thick. "I held off telling her for a while too. But when it got out, she just couldn't wait...she wanted to come find you." Simpler than telling Erik she wasn't from their world, right?

"What can she do? How was she able to just...happen in front of me?"

"Honestly?" Peter said, looking up. "We're not even sure what her powers are. That's something we're trying to work out. So I hope it's okay," he added, "I'm taking us back to New York to figure this all out. The Professor must have an answer. Besides, it's the safest place for all of us. You cool with that?"

To his surprise, Erik nodded. "After she appeared, I was going to take a flight to New York to see him. To find you. The boy with silver hair."

"So it made sense to you."

Erik shrugged. "Somehow, it did."

They said nothing for a few seconds after that, allowing the hum of the engine to fill the silent space.

"Mystique was right," whispered Erik at last. "I have more family than I know."

He had yet to find out if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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	8. Interludes

"And how exactly are you planning on finding her?"

Stephen Strange led Natasha into a large, circular room with a wide, arced window that stretched from floor to ceiling. It was translucent, and beyond the glass she could only vaguely see the colors and shapes of New York City.

"Well, I don't normally do this in front of strangers, but the situation leaves me with no choice," said Strange. "I'm going to use an astral projection to pop in between dimensions, cast around for anything that doesn't feel right and follow the energy there-- that is, unless Wanda has moved. She wouldn't keep still last time I tried."

Natasha was even more confused than before, but she folded her arms. "Do your thing."

The doctor seemed in his element. With a wave of his hand, candles lit themselves all around the the room. Another wave, and five of them flew to the center of the chamber and hovered above them. Strange then picked up a long staff-like object from where it was leaning against the wall and proceeded to use the tip to draw a stark pentagonal shape on the floor, etching in symbols and letter Natasha couldn't understand.

"Tell me, Agent Romanoff," he said crisply. "Did you believe in magic before you came to me or was this some kind of Hail Mary pass because you didn't know what to do with Miss Maximoff?"

"To be honest?" Natasha replied. "The latter."

"Hm," Strange said with a smug smile. "And how's that unbelief in magic working out for you now?"

She shrugged. "I'm used to surprises."

"The thing is," Strange said, "the multiverse can be accessed through the use of astral projections to scope out alternate realities first before making a physical entry into another world. The first part's easy; Wanda might be able to do it in her sleep. The second part's a bit harder. I had to train myself to do it. And yet, Wanda managed out of sheer force of will." He stood in the center of the shape and turned slowly, dragging the bottom of the staff around the shape he'd drawn to create a circle, as one would with a compass. "Which is completely fascinating, but it may have disastrous consequences."

"How do you mean?"

Strange glanced back at her. "Being connected to so many dimensions can be...mentally taxing. If you focus on more than one at a time, well...to put it bluntly, you're going to lose your goddamn mind."

It took Natasha a second to realize he was being serious.

"Agent Romanoff...Wanda lost her brother, right? I read an article covering the Sokovia attacks in-depth. There was another Maximoff there and he was killed."

"Yes. They were twins."

"Oh, boy," mumbled Strange. "Now I see the connection, literally. So, uh, sorry to run a sudden child welfare interrogation, but you've been treating her well, right?"

"Of course we have," said Natasha.

"Well," he said, returning his focus to setting up the pentacle. "If this reality was so bad for her, Wanda could have simply 'noped out' and subconsciously put her energy into finding a different reality where her brother is alive."

"And that's where you think she could be?"

"It's quite obvious. All this stuff is mainly deductive reasoning, really. I wouldn't expect you to understand, you're a spy. The deductive reasoning usually comes after you've finished your job." The candles descended, positioning themselves at different points in the pentacle. Again, Strange looked at Natasha. "Right. Ready?"

"Yes."

At Strange's command, the room shifted and swirled; soon Natasha was no longer sure what was up and what was down, or even where the room ended. Spots and streaks of energy formed in the room, coalescing around the sorcerer.

Natasha shielded her eyes slightly. "What are you going to do?"

Dr. Strange closed his eyes. "I'm going to open my mind."

* * *

 

"Have you found them?"

Charles Xavier shook his head for about the fifth time. "No. I know they're there, but I can't exactly locate them...every time I try to search out Peter, there's a sort of...block in the way. Like a smoke screen." He frowned. "This has never happened before."

Scott and Jean, who were standing right behind him in the vast, bright cavern that was Cerebro, exchanged glances.

"I think the girl is doing it," Jean said quietly. "I told you. She's something else."

"And you said they just disappeared from the room?" murmured Charles.

"Yeah. Kurt tried to get in, but he couldn't, she was blocking him out, too. It was only after that he was able to teleport inside, but that was because they'd already gone."

"I'm sorry," Charles said, and the red pinpoints representing every member of the mutant race faded away as he removed the headpiece. "I cannot seem to see them. We're going to have to use the old-fashioned way."

Jean fidgeted, as Scott rubbed her back comfortingly. "Maybe they went because I said we couldn't help her? I didn't ask them to leave, I just..."

"I know, Jean," soothed Charles, rolling down the long walkway that led to the chamber's exit. "It's alright. Perhaps she and Peter decided to figure this out on their own, or it's another part of her power set she can't control. But to go completely off the radar, even for Cerebro...well, that is impressive indeed. And that is why we must act fast."

"If she isn't a mutant," Scott put in, "what else could she be? And how do we help her?"

"I am certain there is a way. We just need to find them first."

All the way back up to the mansion's first floor, Charles kept a calm exterior, but inside there was a gnawing sense of worry. This girl. Erik's daughter, Peter's sister. What could she do and how was she doing it? There was Jean's theory that she wasn't a mutant at all, which made sense; Charles couldn't see her on Cerebro. But he couldn't see Peter, either. Was her influence masking them both from him?

A part of him felt like smacking his old friend in the face for being so irresponsible with his powers of procreation.

A part of him felt anxious for Peter. Sure, he wasn't exactly a student. But he was still an X-Man, and Charles' responsibility.

Another part felt the slightest edge of fear. If the girl wasn't a mutant, then indeed, what was she? Were the children of the atom not alone?

Those thoughts were stilled when they reached the upper ground floor of the mansion, where they found Ororo Munroe waiting for them, newspaper in hand.

"You may want to look at this, sir," she said, handing it to Charles.

Emblazoned across the headlines were the words MUTANTS CAUSE CHAOS AT LAX. Accompanying the article were a few photos of the airport post-pandemonium, as well as a couple of security footage images showing three figures running through a parking lot. Peter was obviously recognizable thanks to his hair, but the older man next to him was undoubtedly, definitely, Charles' oldest friend.

Charles shook his head. "Oh, bloody hell."

 

* * *

 

Wanda was beginning to be able to sense the phenomena better. Every time she messed up in between dimensions and physically entered one reality, she'd lose control. The magic would just follow her through. And it was exhausting. Not even Peter's presence would help all the time...but it did calm her nerves. And that was why, little by little, Wanda felt just the slightest edge of control.

But again in her dreams she was drifting, weightless, between dimensions. Although this time, the voices were hushed, the images less sharp. She didn't feel overwhelmed by all of them.

"It's funny, isn't it? You don't seem to dream normally when you're asleep in a world that isn't yours," said a voice behind her, and Wanda turned around.

A figure walked toward her-- a woman's shape, but her features were blurred, as people's faces often are in dreams. Even if this dream seemed more real than most that Wanda had had, she couldn't even make out the color of what the woman was wearing, although in the dimness it seemed to be a very deep red.

"That's because even if your physical body's here, your astral form is less anchored," she continued. "This is all happening on a plane of existence only a few can access. But you and I, we're among those who can exist at the heart of all realities."

"Who are you?" said Wanda warily.

There was smile in the voice, which Wanda heard even when she did not see it. "You'll figure it out." The voice became more somber. "But you have to go back, Wanda."

"What?" said Wanda, surprised. "How do you know my--?"

"Wanda," the voice was more urgent now. "Open the portals, please. Return to your world. You must."

"But Peter!"

"Leave him. You've got to."

"No." Wanda turned away from the portal figure. "I'm not doing that. We just found Erik."

"They aren't your family. I'm sorry, child. You lost your family years ago. Now please...listen to me."

Wanda felt like screaming. She heard screaming. Maybe it was somewhere deep in her own head.

"Don't tell me what to do!" She yelled. "This is my power. My ability. Ever since I got it people have been telling me what to do, what not to do-- Strucker, Ultron, the Avengers; I could never control it then, but I'm starting to control it now! So can't I do what I feel is right--?"

"But does it feel right?" asked the figure quietly. "Deep down, does any of this feel right to you? You tore a hole right through realities because you couldn't face the one you had, a life without your brother."

Wanda paused, heart beating in her ears.

"There's a saying where I'm from," continued the figure, "and maybe you'll hear it someday in your world, too. With great power comes great responsibility." The voice was very gentle, almost sad. "And you have such great power, Wanda. Probability. Possibility. You can change everything and anything. I'm telling you now-- don't. It will only hurt you."

The dream state started to fade, and so did the figure. Her voice sounded very far away now.

"Please, think about it. You don't belong in this world..."

Wanda was alone again, a few seconds before she woke up.

"I don't belong anywhere," she whispered.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The delay in updating this fic is absolutely UNFORGIVABLE. I am so sorry, guys. Thank you for sticking around. updates will continue to be slow but they WILL. GET. DONE. Bear with me!


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